Gemotions

The first thought that filled John’s mind was that he was going to miss his daughter’s ballet recital. Then, the panic set in, a cold wave washing over him. He felt his heart begin to race, a frantic drumbeat against his ribs. He felt trapped, not just in the metal box, but in a prison of his own making.

He’d always hated enclosed spaces. He knew this, and yet, here he was. He fought to control his breathing, to take slow, deliberate breaths. He kept his back to the wall, trying not to touch anything.

The silence was deafening, broken only by his own shallow breaths. He wiped his palms on his trousers, leaving damp patches. The world outside, the bustling city, felt a million miles away.